


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by WorryinglyInnocent



Series: Fun in the Sun: Sizzling Smutlets [25]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Golden Lace, NSFW, PWP, Smut, Smutlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 21:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20298187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: An evening of pool in the Rabbit Hole turns into something much more pleasurable for Gold and Lacey. Golden lace, a pure PWP little smutlet.





	Hit Me With Your Best Shot

It’s a well-known fact that the only person who can beat Lacey French at pool is Mr Gold, and even then, most people agree that there is something staged in his victory. 

Perhaps she lets him win because he’s her landlord and it always pays to keep him sweet. Then again, there are other regulars in the Rabbit Hole where Lacey makes a living hustling the eight ball who disagree with this theory. Gold is a proud man, after all, and proud men do not take kindly to being thought weak enough that the outcome of a game must be staged in their favour – for Lacey’s losses and fudged shots are by no means subtle.

Still, Gold never seems to mind the ostentatious manner in which Lacey assures his victory. In fact, there’s usually a wolfish smile on his face as Lacey gives him her trademarked sultry smirk and bends over the table to take her shot, her barely covered rear wiggling unnecessarily in Gold’s direction. Lacey’s pert backside has sent many a Rabbit Hole patron wild with lust, although she ensures that none of them get close enough to experience its delights first-hand. 

Gold, though… Gold gazes at Lacey’s ass with an air of satisfaction and intimate knowledge. Is that why she lets him win? Because they’re fucking on the sly? No one in the Rabbit Hole would credit it. Gold’s a robot who’s never shown the slightest romantic or sexual interest in another human being in all the time he’s been in Storybrooke. No, they can’t be fucking. It must just be some inside joke.

Lacey watches the drinkers as she deliberately fluffs her shot; watches the cogs turning in their minds as they try to figure out the arrangement between her and Gold, occasionally hitting on the right answer but more often than not immediately dismissing it as impossible.

“You know, it looks like you might need some tuition in the art of pool.” Gold leans in close behind her, one hand coming to rest on her hip as his erection presses into her backside.

“Yeah. I could probably use some guidance on where to put my hands on the cue.” She rubs up against him, making him hiss and grip her tighter.

“You keep that up and you’ll beat me even with deliberately bad shots.”

“I agree. You forfeit the game if you have to go for a sneaky wank in the bathroom.”

“Oh, I can assure you that will not be happening.” His hands slips round off her hip and under the curve of her ass, dipping up under the hem of her skirt to slide between her legs and touch the damp spot of arousal on her gusset. “You might need to, though. You’re soaking through your panties, all for me.”

“It’s your shot,” Lacey breathes, desperate not to let him know how badly she wants him to rip those panties off and fuck her over the pool table from behind.

His hand moves, and she can’t decide if she’s grateful for the reprieve or annoyed at the loss of contact. He lines up the shot perfectly and takes it, as if he hasn’t got a raging hard-on that is carefully concealed by the table at all times. Lacey grits her teeth. Pretty soon she’ll be fluffing her shots for real if this unbearable tension keeps up. She wants to throw him down on the baize and kiss him senseless, but the need to keep their relationship secret still weighs heavy on her mind.

Lacey has always been the type not to care what people think of her, but the idea that she could settle into an exclusive relationship with anyone, least of all her dragon of a landlord, still scares her. It’s still too new for her to want to sabotage it with local gossip.

Gold pots the black and straightens up.

“I believe I win, Miss French.”

“I believe you do, Mr Gold. And what, as the loser, do I forfeit?”

“Well.” His hand slides down her back to cup her ass. “I can think of a few things.”

A thought occurs to Lacey, a devilish thought that makes her grin and sends a fresh jolt of anticipation through her veins, straight down between her thighs to the growing damp spot in her panties.

“We could turn it into strip pool,” she suggests huskily.

“Not in the middle of the Rabbit Hole, we couldn’t.”

Lacey rolls her eyes. “Surely your huge house has a pool table in it.” She knows it does; she’s seen it in the basement next to the spinning wheel. “I say we adjourn there for our next game.”

Gold smirks. “All right. You do realise that I have far more items to take off than you, so it’ll be pretty one-sided.”

“Oh, I’m not letting you off so easily next time,” Lacey says. “And who knows? Maybe my state of undress will prove… distracting.”

The atmosphere on the drive back to Gold’s house is positively electric, and Lacey doesn’t want to say anything that might kill the mood. The looks passing between her and Gold tell her what she already knows – there won’t be another game tonight. At least, not one of pool.

Once they’re inside, Gold leads her down to the basement and points out the pool table with a flourish. Lacey runs her fingers along the soft baize before dumping her purse on the floor and stripping off all her clothes. She leans back against the table, letting Gold look his fill at her bareness.

“I haven’t anticipated quite such a show,” he says, and she can see his appreciation in the front of his trousers.

“Well, I’ve lost to you so many times already that I felt I was in arrears and it might be better to pay up front. So… Still up for a second game?”

“There are far more interesting things we could be doing with that table,” Gold growls, and he crosses the room towards her with bold strides, capturing her lips in a plundering kiss; it’s exactly the reaction that Lacey wanted. She wrestles him out of his clothes until his shirt is hanging open off his shoulders and his trousers and underwear are around his ankles.

“How do you want me, Mr Gold?” she purrs.

“This is your idea, Miss French. How do you want me to want you?”

Lacey twists in his arms, bending over the table so that the cloth grazes her aching nipples. She looks over her shoulder at Gold, blowing him a kiss and shaking her hips in invitation. He accepts eagerly, two fingers sliding into her folds to find her still wet and very, very ready. He takes himself in hand, stroking leisurely and unashamedly, showing off his cock. She can’t lie, he is packing a handsome package there and God, he knows how to use it well enough.

There’s never any fumbling with Gold. He knows what he wants and how to get it, and even when he’s pounding into her with abandon, like now, he never leaves her wanting. A hand snakes between her stomach and the table, wending down between her legs to pinch and rub at her clit, and Lacey swears with the sensation. He can play her body just as well as he plays the rest of the town in his deals. Perhaps next time she’ll win, and she’ll put him at her mercy, riding him senseless on this same table, but at the moment, this feels too good to want to change it in any way.

He pauses then, both of them just an inch from completion, and he pulls her up and close in against him, bracing against the table as he continues to thrust. The new angle makes Lacey groan, and she reaches her peak within seconds, Gold’s clever fingers on her clit pushing her over the edge. Her inner walls clench around him and he follows her over in a litany of filthy words. One day she’ll get him to act as depraved and desperate as his language is.

His softening cock slips out of her, still twitching, and Lacey turns back to face him again, kissing him deeply. She’s not usually one for staying the night, but if he offers, this time she will. This table’s not seen the last of them yet, and she plans on defeating him fair and square before the night is out.


End file.
